


Good Morning Good Morning

by HolmesApothecary



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anniversary, Boys In Love, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hammocks, Husbands, M/M, Marriage, Sickfic, Sleepy Boys, Sleepy Cuddles, don't argue with me they have a dog, patrick and his guitar, snoring, this is just an excuse to be as sweet as possible, you know you're in love when someone sees your gross snot face
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25945420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolmesApothecary/pseuds/HolmesApothecary
Summary: Snippets of mornings in a happy marriage.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 74
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just an excuse to post all the fluffy mornings I've come up with during the past few months. This tumultuous time has stolen my creativity except for soft, sleepy morning scenes. 
> 
> All of them are finished so it will be posted every day for the next week. And I might have one or two more pop up over time.

David opens one eye and glares at the light. It’s way too early and he’s too close to the ground to be correct. They didn’t get around to putting the bed together last night, just threw the sheets and duvet on the mattress on the floor. 

He’s not sure why he’s awake. It’s more his husband’s time of day. But here he is, looking out on the set of corner windows he wants to put a comfy chair by and into the small but ensuite bathroom off their bedroom.

The bedroom of their house...his and Patrick’s. For all the money he came from, no piece of land has ever had his name on it, except the town bought for him as a joke. But here he is in the house with his name on the paperwork. The house they put a down payment on with less money than he’s spent on some nights out in the past. The down payment that included a small amount of money from both sets of parents, a line item in their budget, and forgoing a DJ or band at the wedding. He’s never been more proud of an amount of money in his life. 

And he cannot wait. Cannot wait to see how they’ll grow and build and change this life together. Cannot wait to argue with Patrick about where the TV will go or who will paint the family room trim (him) and who will paint the walls. Cannot wait to be forced to live with the ugly blue tile in the bathroom until they save up for renovations. Cannot wait to see the mailbox at the curb with their names on it. 

He starts to wiggle in excitement just thinking about it all. 

“David, ew, it’s early,” Patrick grumbles behind him, mocking his normal morning routine. 

David turns over and looks at his husband with his sloppy hair and stupid mouthguard in their very own house with their names on it.

He wiggles some more. 

“Patrick, I cannot wait. Let’s get up.” 

“For what? What’s right now?” Patrick says, lacing their fingers together to tether him to the bundle of energy in front of him.

“Our life. Let’s go.”


	2. Chapter 2

The first time he hears it, he’s sure it’s a one-off thing. They’d had a happy, lazy morning in bed just enjoying their new house and each other. And the faint off-key hum coming from the shower in their ensuite bathroom was surely a result of a content husband. But then he realizes the second time as he hears the faint melody on an ordinary Tuesday morning with David in a rush to get ready—that his husband sings in the shower. Patrick is delighted to learn something new about David after over two years together. The apartment bathroom had been too far away to have really noticed on most mornings. And he’d have never done it if he knew Patrick was in the room and could hear him, the few times Patrick had shaved while David was in the shower. 

Patrick doesn’t comment, afraid to spook David into being too self-conscious to continue. Instead he catalogs the songs David bops along to the music in his head. 90’s pop, divas, of course, snippets of childhood songs, and Patrick is surprised at some of the songs he likes but David pretends to only tolerate. He's sure to add them to the car playlist without comment to his husband.


	3. Chapter 3

He wakes up with the morning sun to the faint memory of loneliness. Sometimes, that old melancholy just faintly passes by him, leftovers from a lifetime ago. Memories of a time when he disconnected from people, from the world around him. Memories of people who cared less about him and more about what he could offer them. They don’t come often now but they still come. 

He’s pressed between two warm bodies, keeping him in, keeping him safe. While they tend to sleep with David’s head on Patrick’s shoulder, there are nights like these where the cold snuggles them up under piles of blankets and piles of each other. Patrick is nestled in behind him and Amiri is curled up like a little comma in the alcove of his bent knees. He’s surrounded by his little family, and yet still, sometimes that safety reminds him of the time when it didn’t exist. 

He aches for that time. Not because he wants to return to it but because if he could just for a second meet that version of himself and tell him to hold on, that good things were coming….well, he wouldn’t have believed it so maybe that wasn’t the point. Maybe the point was to remember that time to know how much he should hold on to the present. Hold on to this warm little cocoon that surrounds him on a winter morning and know, at last, good things are meant for him too. 

Patrick’s hand grips tighter to his shirt as Amiri quietly woofs in his sleep at some invisible squirrel. And David holds on to them and lets the rest go as he drifts back to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The light lands differently here than in the apartment or the motel—it’s more direct. It wakes him earlier and surprisingly, it doesn’t bother him as much as it once would have. He’ll never be excited to be awake before 9 am, but he does like sleepily watching Patrick—watching his husband—get ready for the day. He even loves the cup of coffee brought to him and discussing plans for the store that day. And of course, he loves the kiss to the corner of his mouth as Patrick leaves for the store. 

Conversation, coffee, kisses, and that soft morning light are what help him out of bed to start the day.


	5. Chapter 5

Once a month or so, Patrick wakes up alone. It’s not often, he’s usually the one up first...and out the door to open the store. But some days, when David has woken up early to too many thoughts in his head to stay in bed, Patrick is left to sleep in with the alarm turned off. Often David is in the second bedroom turned office/closet. Curled up with his journal or outside on the deck if the weather is right. A few days, he’s even at the store. Always there is a note left on his pillow, letting Patrick know to stay put, rest, and without fail signed “Love, David, your husband.”

On those days, Patrick moves slow. David needs some space to put away the worry and doubt before Patrick comes in and hurries it all away with just his presence. 

Somedays he goes back to sleep to get some needed rest. But most days...those days he turns on the Bluetooth speaker in the bedroom and just listens. Listens to the songs that matter or that reflect what he feels right at that moment or the exact opposite. Once he listened to every version of Jolene he could get his hands on. Another, every Carly Rae Jepsen song David played over and over, trying to find the connection. 

He listens, just listens. Wishing he was someone who drank beer at 8 am on a Tuesday while laying on the floor listening to Joni Mitchell. He lets the melody and words wash over him, into him, around him. 

Some days it’s just an hour and then he’s up and off to the store. Other days, he shows up at noon with lunch. Sheepish even when David reminds him most days that’s his starting time. 

On the rare occasion, David comes home after closing to find Patrick tucked into the window seat with his guitar, wrestling with a melody that caught hold of him. 

Those days, David shucks his shoes and climbs in behind Patrick, kissing his shoulder and letting the music wash over them both.


	6. Chapter 6

“Patrick….”

“Mmmph.” Patrick peeked one eye open to see his husband intent on his phone, bedhead, and glasses in place. They’d been up earlier and after wearing themselves out again had fallen back asleep. Now it seemed David was up for their new Sunday ritual, crossword, coffee, and cuddles with the dog.

“Patrick, what is a six-letter player’s name who was the 2009 World Series M.V.P.?” 

“Matsui,” he said as he stretched and thought about snuggling back down into his husband's side. 

“Thanks, honey,” David says as he carded his fingers through the riot of curls beside him. 

*********

“David”

“Nooooo.” 

“David.” 

“Divorce, Patrick,” came a muffled reply. 

“I need the car keys. Do you have them?”

David signed irritably. “In what pockets, Patrick?”

“David, come on.” 

A grumpy, disaster-haired head finally emerged from the blankets. 

“You ran to grab your wallet from the car last night. _You_ had them last,” David said as he flopped back dramatically.

Patrick felt his cheeks pink up as it all suddenly clicked back into place and he grabbed his jeans out of the hamper. 

“Um...sorry?”

“Ugh, come here and kiss me to make up for me being awake this early on my day off, you menace.”

Patrick was happy to comply. 

*********

“Uggggghhhh….no.”

“Huh? Wha...how is it morning already?” 

_::: inarticulate whining into a pillow :::_

“I’ll text Nan that we’ll be in later. She’s good to open on her own for once.”

“Patrick, please marry me. You are my favorite.”

“C’mere...you’re warm. Warm your favorite husband up."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ******This one doesn't start out with the focus of the others...but it ends with it. Note that this deals with the fallout of the pandemic (but no one gets sick). This chapter can be taken out of the "canon" of the other chapters if you want.*****

With their family scattered all around and a deadline looming for a closed border between the US and Canada, David and Patrick try to persuade the Roses to come back to Schitt's Creek. But after some back and forth and worried whispers in the dark that he'd never own up to to anyone but Patrick, David knows it's best for Johnny and Moira to stay in LA. They're safe and air travel seems to be an unnecessary risk at their age. Still, it's hard for all of them, and even Moira realizes she is not quite okay with no way to quickly reach her children back home. At least there are video calls and text messages to keep them close. 

Alexis goes back and forth on staying in New York. She's left to become an independent woman but these times...well they don't feel like the time to try and #GirlBoss it on your own. She can also hear the concern in David's voice when he lightly suggests she come back without trying to push too hard. In the end, she can do her job from anywhere and she just wants her brothers in this uncertain time. Right before it’s too late, she rents a car and makes the drive, feeling better the closer she gets to home. 

Not wanting to take chances once she's back, Alexis stays at the motel just to be safe. In her and David's old room, she passes the 14-day quarantine with old episodes of the O.C. with David snarking with her on speakerphone. Twyla and Stevie keep her stocked with snacks and wine while Patrick and David drop off dinner every night with a wave through the window. Even with everyone right here, she misses them in the quiet of a room that used to seem too loud. Misses David asleep in the next bed. 

By the fifteenth day, she's crawling the walls, ready to be back to some semblance of normalcy, or so she tells herself when she's up at 6 am. Rather than wait and pace some more, she packs her bags, ready to walk to David and Patrick's house if she has to. But when she opens the door, there is her brother-in-law, smiling knowingly and waiting for her in the car. The drive back to the house is quick and silent, and she's out of the car and up the stairs before Patrick even reaches the porch. 

Her brother is holding the blanket open for her when she gets to the master bedroom. She crawls in beside him and finally, _finally_ , feels like she's home. David holds her tight and whispers in her ear, "You smell like motel sheets." David being his most-David makes her sob into his shoulder while she tries to burrow closer into his side. With a barely-there slap to his arm, she says, "Ugh, don't, David." 

They sleep for a few more hours, David in the middle between Alexis and Patrick—everyone holding on tight. When they wake up, Patrick makes them pancakes. And even though the world is still a mess and their parents are far away, they feel like everything is going to be okay. 


	8. Chapter 8

It's the chill in the air that first wakes Patrick. 

A small breeze makes him shiver and snuggle into the line of warmth in front of him. Opening his eyes, he notes the layer of mist and gray, purple hue above him. It's quiet, early. They must have somehow fallen asleep in the hammock. 

They'd been up late. Wine and chocolate covered almonds and talking while wrapped in a striped wool blanket as the citronella candles burned down in the late summer evening. He loved that they are still like this. Loved that after all this time, he's still the person David tells all his best stories to. Anecdotes about incorrect customers in and out of the store that week, the best pizza money can buy in Tokyo (the cheaper the better actually), and the time he got locked out of the house all night by Alexis when he was seven years old. Pieces of David that he's given to Patrick freely over the years and that Patrick holds tight to.

They trade opinions about US politics (although they are the same opinions), discuss Patrick coaching a little league team, and get impassioned and almost overturn the hammock at three am when discussing David's approach to loading the dishwasher. All while getting closer and closer as more and more stars come out on this perfect, mild night. 

Somehow they never make it back into the house. Five more minutes turn into five more and then they're trading quiet kisses as their eyes grow heavier and heavier and close. 

Now, Patrick takes in the morning, the muted light and his beautiful husband snugged up beside him, smokey eyelashes fanned along pink cheeks. His lips are not quite quirked into the tucked in grin he gets when especially pleased—but the dimple in his left cheek stands out. Behind him, Patrick can just see their house, their home. Patrick's whole world is laid in front of him on this quiet, misty morning and he cannot feel luckier. 

"Mmmmm," came the grumbling, half-asleep voice of his husband. "Please tell me I'm dreaming and we did not actually sleep outside last night surrounded by nature and moths." 

"Okay, David." 

They burrow close again, finding warmth and each other as they slip back to sleep. The sun rises.


	9. Chapter 9

"I miss sleep, Patrick," David rasped pitifully. "Remember sleeping without coughing?"

Patrick's face was smooshed into the blankets. "Ugh, I miss breathing through my nose."

David patted the ankle that was near his shoulder. They had been this bed for too many days without changing PJs. 

"Trust me, no one misses you breathing through your nose more than me. I almost smothered you with a pillow at 3 am last night."

"This sucks."

"I know, honey. If my throat didn’t feel like it was on fire, that would make things so much better."

"Will you rub my head?" 

David looked down the bed at Patrick who had his head hanging off the edge of the bed. 

"You’ll have to come back up here, I’m never moving again. I move and my nose runs."

"Trust me I know."

"Patrick! You said you’d never speak of that again!" David gasped, sitting up way too quickly. He regretted it immediately. 

"Sorry, it’s hard to forget." 

"Well, that's it. Our sex life was great while it lasted," David said as he flopped back down into the pillows. "I’m sure you’re not attracted to me now."

"David," Patrick said as he crawled back up to the top of the bed, hovering over David. "I will ALWAYS be attracted to you. Even when you have two kleenexes shoved up your nose." 

"You’re just saying that so I’ll rub your head, but I will choose to believe it. And say that I’m still attracted to you even though no human being should make honking noises like you did last night." 

"Mean." 

"You scared the dog away from the room." 

David guided Patrick down to his shoulder, reaching to rub soothing circles on the back of his head. They should really get up and take a shower this morning if they weren't actually going to sleep. 

"Oh, that feels so nice. Love you."

"Hmmmm, love you too. But it’s my turn next, you have to scratch my back since you brought up the kleenex incident."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone that read and commented on this little story. I think I have one or two more mornings in me that I'll post sometime soon.

“So?”

“So, what?” Patrick asked. 

David glanced over at Patrick who was curled up on his side, hand under his cheek peering at him with his too loud eyes. They’d woken up hundreds of times like this now. 

Happy wake-ups, kiss-filled wake-ups, grumbly wake-ups. Mornings together even when they were mad or sick or annoying. He wouldn’t trade a single one of those mornings as long as he got to wake up next to his husband. He’d once asked Patrick if a particular morning together was what marriage would be like and now he knew. It’s crosswords and surprise barks at 5 AM from the dog. It's snuggles and back scratches and someone being a bed hog. It’s letting Patrick sleep in sometimes but more often waking up to a steaming cup of coffee on his nightstand. 

“So...how’d we do—for a first year of marriage?”

Patrick looked over at David fondly. Then scooted closer, tucking himself into David’s side and pecking a kiss to the place on David’s neck that undoubtedly belonged to him by now. 

“I mean, I’m fairly new at this, **_we’re_** fairly new at this. But I think we did a pretty good job of it.”

“Pretty good? That’s it?” 

“Hmmm.” 

“Well,” David said, laying his head on top of Patrick's and running his hand across his shoulder before giving it a little pinch for him being a troll. “Guess we’ll just have to keep going. They say practice makes perfect.” 

Patrick pulled back far enough to look up at him. “David, I can’t wait to practice a million more mornings waking up with you." 

David tipped his head back, three years together and Patrick still ruined him with the things he said. 

“Well then,” he cleared his throat. “Good morning, Patrick.”

“Happy anniversary, David.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at [HolmesApothecary](https://holmesapothecary.tumblr.com/).


End file.
